A Glimmer of Hope

By Heather Markham

Curry’s head buzzed horribly like it was filled with a thousand bees, all of which were swarming around trying to get out, stinging him at the insides of his temples and eyeballs in the process. His body ached and shook uncontrollably with the utter cold of the desert night. His hair was plastered to his head. He opened his eyes – they swam with disorientation, even though he knew all too painfully well where he was.

The first rays of the outside morning sun began to shine brightly, stabbing through the cracks and slits of the corrugated metal walls of his tiny box prison. There was barely enough room inside to move or stretch out and not enough to even half stand. He rubbed at his legs, on top of everything else, painful cramps had set in.  He felt sick, tired, he took a deep breath in an effort to control his shivering – it did nothing, all it succeeded in doing was to fill his lungs with the stench of the tin punishment box.

Curry hadn’t eaten or drunk anything in what seemed to him to be twenty-four hours, all the time he’d been in here and a little before that. He felt searingly thirsty but not hungry. He licked his parched tongue across his cracked and dirt encrusted lips. Even his own lips tasted foul!.

The sun was creeping higher in the sky outside beginning to warm his prison, he knew that pretty soon the welcome warmth would turn to a blisteringly hot torment. God! He wished he had something to drink...even a spoonful would do something, but the guards weren’t that kind! How much longer could he endure this…how much longer could he last out here on the fringe of The Pardon County Prison’s enclosure?

Curry couldn’t even properly recall exactly how long the warden had sentenced him to be out here...he just knew there were hours of extreme heat followed by intense cold and darkness. How had he gotten into this situation…..standing up to the guards for Heyes…that’s how! How else! Heyes was always getting him into trouble, only this time he couldn’t get out of it by himself. His mind drifted back in a haze to when it all began...how it all happened.

Trapped here in his own private hell, Curry played back the thoughts of how he and Heyes had gotten into this mess. He’d heard in some bar somewhere that Pardon County dealt a hard line to rustlers, hustlers and thieves in general, any crime of any kind however big or small was not tolerated kindly…it was not a place to go flouting the law, robbing banks or holding up trains that was for sure, but Heyes had got wind of a real big card game to be held in a little backwater town called Mountain Shelter. In a place like that it probably meant a private game – strictly private from the eyes of the law. He’d had a bad feeling about all this right from the start, something scratched at the back of his mind but he just couldn’t quite get it to break through the grey matter and  into the forefront of his mind.

Heyes reassured him it would be okay, they would go direct to the town, stay just as long as it took to win the money they needed to winter over in some nice city somewhere – and win Heyes was determined to do…oh well, it all sounded quite simple and easy – as usual – but then as so often was the case, things weren’t always as simple or easy as they planned.

Curry’s back ached, he ached all over, except for his backside which had long since gone numb. His thoughts scattered as more cramps brought him momentarily to where he was…his stifling little oven! He rubbed at his aching calf muscles, then stretched his leg as far as his confines allowed.

Tentatively, he leaned his head back against the hot metal wall...ouch! too hot now to put his head back against, so instead he drew his arms around his knees and let his head fall forward to rest on them. His thoughts swirled around his head like desert dust and dirt in the wind – yeah – dust and dirt, like the well used track they rode along towards the quiet little town. It had been a long journey, they were both looking forward to a nice cool beer and a proper place to sleep, maybe take a bath too…he hadn’t said anything but Heyes was beginning to smell a little ripe…he bent his head to his own arm pits and wrinkled his nose…hmmm, maybe he needed some lyle and water too.

The first thing they came to as they neared the town was a big old timber frame entrance way. Burned in big black lettering across the top beam was the name of the town “Mountain Shelter”…self explanatory really…out in the distance loomed a mountain range. Burned in more recent lettering beneath the town’s name was the statement “God bless peace, quiet and the law”…strange statement to make, he thought, then he caught sight of the rather tattered notice nailed to one of the uprights ….in big black lettering were the words “No Weapons Allowed...Hand all guns in at the sheriffs office upon entry to town.” Below that in small, mostly illegible, weathered print was some kind of list of town rules and regulations. Neither he or Heyes bothered to try and read them. Curry’s worrying came back to him…it was always the same, every time he read that notice at the entrance to a town, it made him feel edgy – kinda vulnerable. He just plain didn’t feel comfortable not having a gun with him, especially at times like these. Although he rarely ever actually used one, usually they or rather Heyes could talk themselves out of trouble, but he did like to have a gun with him to press the point, all the same!

The two of them dismounted from their horses and led them up the main street looking for the Sheriff’s office. He and Heyes shared a conversation of observations made on the people they passed, people who were going about their daily chores and business.

Heyes spied the Sheriff’s office first, pointed it out to him. They tied their horses to the rail in front of the building and went inside. Ten minutes later they were back outside standing in the late afternoon sunshine, their guns had been deposited in a lock-up rack inside the office…Jeez…Curry hated parting with his gun!

The Sheriff certainly hadn’t been the most effusive of men – he was a gruff, hard looking man sporting a large scruffy handlebar moustache and wore a rather well worn, dusty looking city suit. All he’d said to them was the bare essentials of what needed to be said – To stay out of trouble and that guns, fighting, drunkeness and gambling weren’t tolerated in “his” town, that it was a law abiding, God fearing town and it was going to stay that way. They both got the distinct feeling that strangers weren’t tolerated for too long either. Heyes, glanced back over his shoulder at the office and then said to him, “Did you notice just how many men he had locked up in the cells out back?”

“Yes, I did” replied Curry with a worried frown, “I also noticed that there seemed to be more cells than usual for a town this size.”

“Hmmm, one of the prisoners was ranting a bit, what was he going on about…something about not having done anything and being kept too long”

“Yeah, but then all thieves claim to be innocent or it’s not their fault…you know how it goes. Maybe the magistrate is a bit late and they are waiting for him…maybe the sheriff doesn’t allow bail and after all this town is a bit off the track for regular stages to come through.”

Heyes nodded, but didn’t seem totally convinced himself that all was sitting well.   “Yeah, maybe, I think we should get over to the saloon and get ourselves a calming shot of whiskey and that room and bath…perhaps the barman will know where this card game’s being held. I definitely get the impression it is going to be someplace strictly private and not for the eyes or ears of old fungus face back there.”

The Kid, pushed back his hat by its brim, “One thing puzzles me Heyes, why have a big money card game in a place like this? It doesn’t quite make sense? Why hold it in a place where it looks like it’s illegal? Why do I not feel comfortable about this?”

Heyes appeared a  little disturbed himself about it but they’d come all this way and he knew Heyes’ mind well enough he knew he wouldn’t want it to be for nothing…oh well, maybe there was a good reason..who knows...as long as they were careful the lure of easy money was too big a temptation to turn down.

They were propping up the bar of the saloon, several other men were sitting around the rough wooden drink stained tables, they looked like regulars...some others sat by themselves, like themselves, these men looked like strangers to the town too. Conversation with the disinterested barman was like pulling teeth, he didn’t seem very forthcoming with any replies to their hints on the game. In the end Heyes had taken out a dollar coin….a bit extravagant Curry thought…and pushed it across the counter asking directly about where and when the game was. The barman stopped polishing a glass with a filthy rag and swiped up the money shoving it in his waistcoat pocket quick sharp! He leaned across the bar close to Heyes’ ear and whispered that it was to be held here in the cellar of the saloon later that night.

So, with the information they wanted and the whiskey drunk, they sauntered up the stairs to their rooms for a well earned rest and freshen-up before the night’s play.

They had been in the saloon cellar for several hours now – it had been turned into a temporary gambling room for the game. The place had been swept and swilled out, old dark red curtains had been hung over and against the old barrels lining two of the walls, a small bar had been set up in one corner, complete with barman, he looked like a drifter paid to act as temporary barman for the night. Several lanterns hung about the place providing soft yellow lighting. Three tables had been set up and poker was being played at each of them…play was well into progress.

Cigar smoke curled thick around the room, the distinctive chink of coins and money chips added to the mutter of the players voices gave the place a familiar gaming room atmosphere.  At Curry and Heyes table, money in their pot was growing. They had already won several games and were feeling pretty good about scooping a lot more before tomorrow’s dawn, yes things were going pretty good for them when suddenly the cellar door burst open and the sheriff and his gang of armed men stormed into the room.

Both he and Heyes instinctively reached for their guns, the ones they no longer had on them…The Kid’s stomach back-flipped as his brain searched for a way out of there…nothing echoed back to him. There was no where to go, only one way out…and that was through the sheriff and the rifle toting men he had with him.

The beginnings of a fight broke out, tables were over turned scattering money and cards all over the floor but it was all short lived when the sheriff started shooting above their heads. He commanded an order that the gamblers should back off against the back wall. Curry stepped forward to try to talk his way out of the mess, all he got for his trouble was a rifle butt stabbed fiercely into his stomach. This town’s sheriff wasn’t the sort of man to argue with. Not a man to argue with…..not to argue with…………

Curry’s  head was still resting on his forearms, it felt to him like he was sitting in a kiln. The sweat was trickling from his forehead and onto the back of one hand, he licked at the salty droplets – anything to relieve the thirst, anything to moisten his cracked lips. His tongue felt twice its size, it felt like it was made of  skunk fur!

He screwed up his eyes to shield them from the brilliant narrow shafts of sunlight that pierced his darkness – no it wasn’t a nightmare he could wake from, it was real, he was still imprisoned in hell. He closed his eyes again – feeling sick – head swimming. He drifted between uncomfortable hot, sticky sleep and unconsciousness. Blackness engulfed him… Dehydration sent him into dream delirium, it took him over spiralling him into other nightmares…the nightmares shifted back into dream realities, memories of how he got here flowed before his inner eyes.

He, Heyes and the other gamblers had been handcuffed and unceremoniously marched to the town jail cells where they spent the night with other prisoners already incarcerated there. The magistrate arrived that morning…Curry thought that was strange in itself, the magistrate arriving just at the right time when the cells were full. It was seeming more and more of a set up to him…but why? It was all a farce, they were tried then and there, all together, no bail, no defence, nothing! They had all apparently broken numerous rules and regulations, not least of which was illegal gambling. They had all been relieved of their personal possessions. Curry got the distinct impression none of them would see any of it again. That afternoon a big prison wagon arrived, He, Heyes and the others were shackled together, locked inside and transported to the State Prison a few miles away closer to the mountain range.

Once inside the walls of the huge penal institution they were stripped and subjected to the humiliating prison search and shower, ending in them all being liberally dusted with itchy flea powder. The image of those first few hours in that jail swirled in his mind. He and Heyes had both been in jail before but this prison, had both escaped from them too…but this prison was something else! It was an inescapable hell hole with prison guards who had the right kind of qualifications to be Satan’s own men! Blackness came and went, dreams came and went, more horrible nightmare memories.

The prison was using convict labour to build a railroad through the mountain. Payment for this came from the State direct to the Governors pocket. He was a greedy man, fat as a pig with a temper worse than a racoon with toothache! Life in his prison was as tight and as hard as it could get. The prisoners here had been held long over the period they had been sentenced. It seemed that once you got in here you just never got out again.  The gambling had definitely been a scam, a trap set up to catch more men for forced labour. He betted a lot of the men here probably only broke a few stupid rules. Whatever, all of them deserved better than this.

The work parties were unrelenting, little food with work units lasting 16 hours a day. The guards were as cruel as the governor was greedy and if the prisoners didn’t work hard enough they got beaten by them real bad. This is how he had gotten here in this hot box of hell….One morning Heyes woke up feeling real sick – exhaustion probably coupled with bad food. He was still forced to work even with cramps and fever…no hospital wings here. It was still quite early that morning, they had been digging inside the mountain tunnels, putting up support beams, taking out rocks. Heyes had stopped working, slumped to his knees clutching his stomach, he was bent over.

Curry made to go over to his partner but before he could do anything one of the bastard guards saw Heyes, went over to him, shoved a boot in his back forcing his face into the dirt, yelling at him all the while to work, then before Heyes could even begin to raise up off the ground the guard got stuck into him kicking him in the ribs with his heavy boot. He snapped…he just saw red…fear of the guards, the system left him, nothing else mattered at that moment but helping his friend. He lunged forward at the guard, hitting him across the back and shoulder with his shovel. The guard sprawled forward landing heavily against one of the wooden upright beams…he turned in surprise that he should be attacked, and even more to his surprise Curry landed a fist squarely on his jaw. The guard fell back to the ground, Heyes scurried out of the way, another two guards came running and pulled Curry off.

They beat him up, knocked him out cold. The next thing he knew was he was back in the jail, being hauled before the governor who sentenced him to a spell in the hot box. They dragged him out to the prison yard, into the special enclosure and threw him into the metal box. His nightmare then began.

Curry’s fitful dreams were suddenly shattered by an outside force – he could feel someone pulling at him, could feel hands under his shoulders tugging him along in the dirt. He was aware of a change in the air, a sudden coolness, a breeze coming from someplace. Slowly, he opened his eyes, dust was getting into them, he closed them against the grittyness. Finally, he was being dragged from his nightmare sweat box. A bucket of cold water was thrown over him. The sudden shock to his system hit him as hard as a big old flagstone. His body reacted and went rigid. As the sudden shock wore off he began to feel the benefit of the icy water, but more than anything, he needed the water to drink. His prayers were answered – a rough hand rolled him onto his back, pulled open his jaw and the rest of the water in the bucket was being poured down his throat. He coughed, spluttered, half choked on it, but gulped down as much of it as he could.

Hands gripped and lifted him so he sat up. A canteen of water was shoved into his hands. Shakily, he swigged back more water. As he drank more he was pulled upright and suspended between two guards. He was dragged dangling like that back inside the prison and dumped onto the hard straw mattressed bed of a one man cell and left alone.

He curled up into a ball and tried to regain his senses. An hour passed, he heard the jingle of keys at the locked door, it opened and a guard he’d never encountered before stepped inside carrying a large pitcher of water and a plate of hot food. Hmmm, thought Curry, surely not a guard with a sympathetic conscience? He laid still and watched as the guard came over and placed the food and water next to him on the floor. The guard spoke,

“You’ll need to drink plenty more to get over the heat exhaustion. Best if you take it easy and make that water last through the night...best way I know.” The man smiled thinly, “You lasted pretty well out there all things considered, plenty of other men have died out there in less time. You should eat something too. Tomorrow you’ll be back out on outside work detail.”

Slowly, Curry uncurled, slipping his legs over the edge of the bed he eased his aching body up and reached out for the pitcher with shaking hands.

“Thanks” he replied, sipping from the cool water and enjoying the feeling of it washing down his throat…water had never tasted sooooo good before! He swallowed and continued between sips, “I appreciate this. Not like most of the guards here to be concerned with a prisoner.”

The guard went on, “Yeah, well I was here from before the present governors time, I used to be a farmer…can you believe that, only thing I was in charge of was crops, steers and chickens. The droughts got to us though…real bad times they were. Lots of us farmers were in debt to the bank and when the prison looked for more workers me and some other folks around here sold out and took the work…” The man’s voice lowered “Didn’t cure all the debts though…..”  His eyes took on glazed look and his voice trailed of as if he was thinking about it, remembering it all.

Looking back at Curry he continued, “Can’t say I agree on how things are run around here these days but who am I to argue with the Governor. It’s regular work like I said, pays not bad and then there are the bonus’s for getting the work done quick……some of the guards have their own ways of getting that done. Some have to get their work quotas done before schedule”

Curry’s eyes narrowed as he listened, “What do you mean exactly?” he enquired.

The guard looked a might embarrassed, he ground a boot on a piece of dirt on the floor as he spoke “Money, some of us farmers had big debts we accepted loans and help from anyone who would offer it and the governor…” but the conversation was cut short by the approaching sounds of some other guards heading their way.

“Said too much already.” Were the man’s final words as he turned, left and locked the cell behind him.

The Kid’s faculties were recovering, he had to get out of here, he had to formulate some kind of escape plan. He and Heyes had been sentenced to three months hard labour for their misdemeanours and they had been here a little over six weeks and that was six weeks too long! He must think of something……..

Next day, feeling a great deal better for the proper nights rest and the food and water and a little bowl of oatmeal for breakfast, Curry was looking forward to seeing Heyes. He was taken as usual in shackles on one of the prison wagons to the rail head at the mountain. It looked like they had been doing more blasting the day before, more of the tunnel had been opened up. Despite the dangers, blasting was a quick way to get through the core of the mountain. This mountain was riddled with little caves and passageways. Each time they blasted it opened up more tunnels. The rocks and boulders left by the explosions were used to seal them up. This work was closely watched by guards with dogs, that was to see no one escaped in the process. It had been tried once before, just a few weeks back, two convicts who tried to slip into one of the small side tunnels got caught when the tunnel turned out to be short, ending in a small cave. Their punishment was swift and doled out by guards. They were walled up alive by the other prisoners on the orders of a couple of the more sadistic guards.

At rifle point the gang of workers Curry was part of were walked to the back of the tunnel, the shackles were removed so the men could work easier. They must have been really hammering the insides with blasting because the back of the tunnel was now much deeper into the mountain. Many more lanterns had been strung around the tunnel walls to shed light on the convict workers. Huge piles of boulders and rocks were strewn about the far tunnel wall. His gang was set to work clearing the debri away. Heyes was already there working, shifting rocks onto a railed cart when the Kid got there. They spotted each other…Heyes waited for the guard to turn and walk away and made his way over to his friend.

Heyes clapped a hand gently on his shoulder asking him in a whisper if he was okay and how he’d had nightmares of his own about the Kid being out there in that punishment box…he’d heard many a man hadn’t survived the ordeal and nobody had cared even.

Curry made light of it as he shrugged Heyes off. It had been hell but he didn’t want to tell Heyes that. ‘Ah, it wasn’t so bad in there…got me outa work detail and besides, it got me a nice long rest and…”

This conversation was cut short by the guards. One was sauntering over, a length of chain wound through his hand like a metal whip.

Curry winked at Heyes “Talk again when he’s gone,” he tossed a look towards the brutal looking man in charge of the work.

The day continued and as they worked they swapped idle conversations. One lengthy conversation involved Curry telling Heyes it was time he came up with a plan to get them out of there and throwing unworkable suggestions at him. It was mid afternoon, Curry had stopped to take a swig from one of the water bottles, “Uh oh…what now” Curry said to Heyes as he nodded his head towards one of the more brutal guards who was heading their way, two big black vicious looking dogs in tow.

The dogs seemed to be hanging back on their leads. The guard yanked at the dog chains – unusually, one whimpered and dragged it’s paws as if it didn’t want to catch up with it’s master. The other dog howled, then began barking. The other prisoners working there turned to see what was going on. Suddenly, Curry and Heyes felt it almost the same time as the dogs, a slight trembling of the ground…it set the dogs off barking even more. The guard drew his gun in panic, not sure what to do. The ground shook more, was still a few seconds and then it seemed as if the air itself was vibrating….The shout went up “Rock fall! Everyone out!”        

The guards and the convicts were running for the entrance but before the boys could move the tunnel roof began to cave in. The guard with the dogs didn’t make it, they watched as a timber support crashed down on him. Rocks, boulders and timbers were falling every which way. Lanterns were being tossed from the walls, lights blinking out. The whole damn mountain was caving in on them.

Time seemed to stand still as Curry and Heyes pressed themselves crouching, back against the tunnel wall. Curry and Heyes both had their arms up over their heads for cover, trying to protect themselves as best they could. Heyes had his eyes tight shut against the clouds of thick dust and dirt but Curry was squinting through slit eyelids, mesmerised by the events and from fear. One small lantern was still clinging to the nail in the rock wall just to the left and above where they were sheltering. It spread a thin dusty yellow light on what was happening.

It seemed to him that time was all wrong, some rocks were tumbling around him in slow motion while others came hurtling down on him. He had watched as one of the dogs was trapped then buried under a pile of rubble. He watched as invisible hands built an impenetrable  wall of rocks between them and the outside world.

The shuddering subsided. Then came the silence, it seemed unnatural, too quiet, no sounds of digging or shouting, nothing stirred, nothing. It seemed an age before the dust cloud settled and the mountain slept. He and Heyes were motionless, to an outsider it may have looked as if they were cowering there asleep but nothing could have been further from the truth. Curry stirred, shook the dust from his hair and checked himself for broken bones…he was more or less okay, “Heyes, are you okay?”

Heyes moved tentatively, coughed out some dust, rubbed at some bruises he’d got. One large lump was at the side of his head. He felt it with his hand, a smear of blood wiped onto his fingers but he was okay, nothing broken, no concussion, just a few cuts and bruises. “Yeah I guess so…what happened?”

Curry took the lamp off its nail in the wall and shone it around as he replied, “All the blasting must have shook up the mountain a little more than they thought. I think half the mountain must have caved in on us.”

Heyes was up and scrabbling towards the wall of rock that entombed them, “Shine the lantern over here, looks like a bit of a gap between the rocks here.”

Curry put the lamp down to illuminate the wall. There was a slight opening in the rocks - both of them pushed and pulled at the rocky wall throwing huge stones out behind them but it didn’t give. The crack in the rocks was no way out, behind it lay more rocks, probably many feet thick.

Heyes looked worried, “I don’t think we can get through there, it looks pretty solid.”

“Yeah,” replied the Kid, “And I don’t think the guards will be in that much of a hurry in looking for us and digging us out. I don’t fancy being walled up here like a couple of punished escapees. We have to find another way out.”

Curry picked up the lantern again, held it high above his head and swung it round to check their small rocky tomb for another way out.

Heyes saw it first….a very small shadowy niche in the rock wall close to the ground a few feet from where they had been sheltering. Perhaps the tunnel had opened up another small passage way behind it. “Look! Give me a hand here, this could be our way out….could be the mountain’s shaken open a side passageway.”

Curry placed the lantern on a large rock so that it would shed it’s light where they needed it and both boys began digging away at the lose rocks and small boulders, pulling them out and scattering them around behind them again. They opened up a small hole, Curry grabbed the lantern and shoved it inside, the yellow light bled out into a small inky black passageway. Curry’s heart was thumping in his chest, anxiety dried his throat….it was true, there was a passageway and it seemed just big enough for them to scramble through. But and there was a big BUT….If lady luck was with them it might just lead to the outside, BUT if she wasn’t with them, then it might lead them deeper into the mountain, further away from escape. Curry said another silent prayer to his God, before crawling inside. His partner was right behind him.

The dim light was almost swallowed by the total darkness. Trepidation filled him. It felt like he was crawling into another unknown hell, taking his partner in crime with him. He shivered, at least this was a cold one and not a hell hole of heat and at least this time he still had a canteen of water with him. A thin draught of air blew on his face, fluttered a few strands of his dust encrusted hair. The lantern wick was well used and low. He turned up the small wheel at the rim of the metal oil container hoping to get more light but the blackened wick was already all the way up. He put the lantern down in front of him shoving it along as he crawled on hands and knees into the tunnel. They seemed to be edging along like this for what seemed an eternity, the unchained collars of their shackles clanging and scrapping on the rough ground.

They didn’t speak much down here, just the grunts of effort and occasional curses as one or other of them skinned themselves on the jagged rocks above and below them.  Sometimes they would have to stop and dig through loose rocks, clearing a way to squeeze through. The passageway would twist, turn, they would feel themselves going down into the mountain, then their slippery path would wind awkwardly upwards, sometimes opening into a wider passage, sometimes narrowing so they had to crawl on their bellies, snaking along slowly and painfully on scrapped knees and elbows.  Their work uniforms were torn and tattered from catching on the sharp jagged rocks encasing them. Their hands were rubbed raw, blistered and cut from constantly scrabbling and pulling their way along the rough floor.

They were all but exhausted, panting for breath when they came to a large chamber with two tunnels leading off. They stopped for a while, catching their breaths and resting their aching joints and bleeding bruised limbs before going on. “At least” thought  Curry, “There is air in here coming from somewhere.”

After they had recovered a bit, Curry tried one cavity only to find it blocked just a few dozen feet in front it’s opening. They crossed their fingers for luck and tried the only other option, another small, narrow passageway.

This time Heyes took the lantern and the lead, “Let me go first, I’m fed up with being kicked in the head by your boots and swallowing your kicked up dust and dirt.”

“That’s okay with me” Replied Curry with a slight smile, “It’s about time you did some digging and shoving.”

The passage was big enough for them to walk with bent knees instead of having to crawl, but this luxury didn’t last long and soon they were back on stomachs inching forward with the mountain’s weight pressing on their backs and the cold suffocating claustrophobia of their entombment closing in on them once more. The tightness of the tunnel  sucked them into its eternal night. The passage began to grow smaller and narrower still. The lamp was beginning to dim as the wick drank up the last remaining drops of oil. Their spirits fell as they began to think they had worn out their luck. They were snaking along again slowly, just managing a few wriggled feet at time before they had to rest. Darkness was creeping in around them as the light faded.

There was a kind of mind link between them, always had been, especially in times of danger. They could feel each others thoughts and fear – they both thought they were going to get stuck. They both feared they had come this far just to end up dying in the cold thick darkness of a mountain’s belly.

Heyes stopped suddenly, Curry came up behind him, still wriggling along, one of Heyes heavy soled work boots caught him in the eye. He yowled in pain. “Hey, what have you stopped for now?”

Heyes, heart was racing, panic was gripping him, he drew in a deep breath, “Sorry Kid, I hate to tell you this but it’s the end of the tunnel. There’s nowhere for us to go.”

Curry grabbed at Heyes foot and shook it, “No, it can’t have….we’ve never been this unlucky. You sure it just doesn’t turn off somewhere?” It was more of a plea of fear than a question.

“Sorry, Kid but there’s no turning, nothing but rocks. We’re blocked off. Do you think you could wriggle backward?  Maybe if we could make it back to that last big cave we could check out that other tunnel better.”

Curry shook his head sending dust clouds around him, he wriggled a bit and tried backing up, it was too difficult in their confined space. “No, I don’t think I can get back, besides, we checked that other tunnel pretty well at the time. What shall we do. I think Heyes, it’s time you came up with one of your wonderful plans.”

He could feel Heyes laying still, almost hear him thinking. Then fear grabbed at them both, the mountain began to wake up from its slumber. Fear took them, it coiled itself around their lungs as surely as a boa constrictor…the mountain was shaking and shuddering again. Rock and dust fell around them again, they pressed their faces to the rough ground and closed their eyes. They could feel the mountain stretching and yawning…this was it…this was the end. Then as fast as it had begun, it stopped. The mountain was just showing who was boss.

Heyes opened his dusty eyelids…”Curry, Curry…I can see light…day light...the rock fall has opened up a way out, who said lady luck had forgotten us…grab my boots and give me a shove.”

Curry pressed as hard as he could against Heyes boots and rear end. Heyes wriggled, moved forward, wriggled again, some loose pebbles shook down from above him, he moved forward again...his fists frenzedly punching the rocks out of the way, then he was free…he was out! Light streamed in behind him. The mountain trembled again…more rubble fell from above.

Curry wriggled forward as quick as he could…”Heyes, Heyes…give me a hand here before the whole damn passage collapses on me.”

For the second time in two days, strong hands lifted him from his nightmare situation. Heyes grabbed and pulled him out of the hole and into the sunlight just in time. The mountain shook again, they heard a deep rumble come from inside the mountain core, the hole they had just emerged from was falling in, rocks and stones were slipping into it sealing it up. Then all was silent but for their hoots and laughs of joy! They rolled onto their backs, the mossy grass beneath them, blue sky and sun above them...it had never felt this good to be alive! They stayed like that recovering from their exhaustion.